


Why Must I Be a Teenager in Love

by mcswoonfor_mcdoon



Category: Stranger Things - Fandom
Genre: 1989, Aged Up, M/M, MY BABIES, idk what else to tag, im not into that life, making out in a bathroom, mlm, no smut tho, two boys in love, two idiots in love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-17
Updated: 2019-09-17
Packaged: 2020-10-20 07:07:12
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,393
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20671289
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mcswoonfor_mcdoon/pseuds/mcswoonfor_mcdoon
Summary: “...and maybe it was the alcohol, or the way Will was staring at him, but for some reason he just couldn't help it anymore.”





	Why Must I Be a Teenager in Love

**Author's Note:**

> hello everyone! I hope you enjoy this story! if there are any mistakes, I’m sorry, please tell me! this is the longest work I’ve ever done lmao (I know it doesn’t look like a lot, it’s about 1,300 words long) and I tried my best! thank you for reading!

Parties were never really his scene. Maybe it was the constant noise or the mounds of fast paced people pumped on tequila shots that turned him off, but he never had a set in stone opinion on parties themselves. Either way, he couldn't understand why he had agreed to be here. Mike stared wistfully off at the "dance floor" as what looked like hundreds of sweaty kids jumped to "Beat It" by Michael Jackson. He took another sip of his punch—a fruity drink with a hint of something he couldn't name, something that was bitter and that stung as he poured it down his throat— and closed his eyes tightly as his vision swam a little.

The night had started off simple enough. He had agreed to pick up Max and El at 8, then Dustin at 8:30, for whatever reason. When he'd arrived at El's house at 7:55, Max was the one to open the door. she looked him up and down, said "Ugh, gag me with a spoon!" and declared that he had no sense of style whatsoever and needed to get changed immediately. El laughed as Max shoved some of Hoppers old clothes at him with enough force to make him stagger back. 

"I am not wearing Hoppers old clothes!" Mike said as he looked at the crumpled pile in his hands. "How is any of this more fashionable than what I'm wearing?" 

"Just trust me on this." 

He drove up to Dustin's house twenty minutes later looking like an entirely different person, and no one else had mentioned his outfit choice since. Well, until they showed up at the party and Will was waiting for him outside, where he had said "You look nice," with that smile, and Mike's heart wormed it's way into his throat and all he could do was mumble a little and Will smiled wider and walked inside and Mike almost cried for no reason. 

Instead of breaking into these weird happy-tears, Mike followed Will into the house. Nothing bad had happened exactly, it was just loud and hot and kinda smelled funky. So he decided that he hated parties, and had made a home for himself at the corner of a long breakfast counter that broke apart the dining room from the kitchen. Then he found the large punch bowl and chip bag next to it and decided that maybe parties weren’t so totally bad. Because, like, Lay’s. 

Three cups of punch and practically an entire bag of Lay’s later, Mike’s head began to pound and he wanted to go home. And that’s where we left off, Mike staring out at the crowd wondering if he should dance, deciding that he’d probably kill someone in accident if he tried, and continuing to stare at the group, looking for one or two of his friends. He almost gave up until Max ran up to him, a huge smile on her flushed face. “There you are! Come dance with us!” She laced her fingers with Mike’s and started pulling him up. 

“Um... I don’t really—“ but Max was already dragging him to the middle of the large living room floor. “Ooookay then,” Mike called over the music. Max dragged him to the small bit of empty space where she had just came from, where El was laughing like a mad man, jumping up and down crying out song lyrics. Max joined her, and soon forced Mike to join them. He saw Will for a split second— dancing with Dustin and Lucas he thinks— and he wants to go to him, feels drawn to him, like a moth to a flame or like El to cheesy romance novels. He blames this on his foggy brain and continues to dance with the girls until he feels like he’s about to vomit. His head still hurts. “Hey, I’m gonna take a break for a second. Maybe find some Advil or something.” 

“What??” Max called over the music.

“He’s taking a break, I think,” El yelled back, never ceasing her dancing. Max hummed. 

“We don’t need you anyway, loser.” Mike glared at her.

“Oh, bite me,” he said in a mocking tone as he turned and fought his way out of the crowd of people. He just needed to breath for a second, that’s all. And maybe he should go to the bathroom. There’s probably medicine there. Mike made his way towards the stairs, where he assumed the bathrooms were located. He had made it to the base of the staircase before someone grabbed his wrist and pulled him back a little. 

“Hey,” he heard someone say, “where are you going?” He turned to see Will, face flushed and sweaty from the crowd, and Mike almost had a heart attack where he was standing. 

“The bathroom. Why?” 

“Oh, I’ll go with you.” Will started up the stairs, hand still gripping his wrist. Mike stumbled along behind him. This was how it always seemed to be, Will guiding Mike to wherever he needed to be and Mike stumbling around with his to long legs behind him. “It’s right here, I think.” Will pointed to a door, and Mike went to grab the handle. 

“Thanks,” Mike said, a little out of breath for no reason. He looked back at Will, and maybe it was the alcohol, or the way Will was staring at him, but for some reason he just couldn't help it anymore. He grabbed Will’s jawline and pulled him close, and kissed him right on the mouth. He immediately broke away, mind racing with all the ways to make Will not hate him. He started to say, “Shit, I’m so sorry I-“ before Will grabbed his shirt collar and pulled him in again. Mike made a surprised noise and stumbled back a bit, opening the bathroom door quickly. Will closed it, fumbled with the lock a bit and then pulled apart from Mike not only for air but to lock the door properly. 

“That was nice-“ 

“Stop talking, god,” Will laughed a little before kissing Mike again. Mike sighed against his mouth. 

This. 

This, this, this. 

This is everything he’s wanted for months now, maybe even years if he really thought about it. Everything he’s ever been scared of, everything that’s ever excited him and made him calm and happy and melty inside. And when will pushed him against the bathroom counter, nocking over a few perfume bottles and whatever else, Mike’s legs turned to jelly. “Mine,” Will whispered, voice thick and raspy in a way that made something hot stir in Mike’s stomach. 

Will kissed Mike’s jawline, gently nipping at his ear. Mike bit his lip to contain a w̶h̶i̶n̶e̶ ̶ very manly moan. Will kissed Mikes throat, biting a little. “Hah- ah uhm,” Mike stuttered, “that tickles-“ Will bit harder, “aAHm!” Mike arched his back slightly, and Will moaned. He popped open a few buttons on the shirt Mike was wearing and began to kiss past his collar bones before pausing and looking up at Mike. 

“Why do you smell like Hoppers cologne?” Mike straightened up a bit. 

“Why do you know what Hoppers cologne smells like?” Mike replied with a smirk. Will made a disgusted face. 

“He’s dating my mom, asshole.” Mike laughed. 

“Max made me wear his old clothes.” 

“Oh, ew,” Will said straightening as well so he could face Mike, although he was a few inches shorter. “Why?”

“She said I had ‘no sense of style.’” Will laughed at that. 

“I have to agree.” Mike punched him on the shoulder, and Will smiled up at him with that smile again and Mike melted inside and out. He leaned in and kissed Will gently, slowly, trying to show his feelings without saying what he felt. Words came so easily around Will, but Mike didn’t want words right now. He wanted soft kisses and rough hands and shiny hair. He wanted Will. When they broke apart, Will was even more flushed than he was before, as if he wasn’t used to this soft handling, which Mike knew wasn’t true. “What was that for?” 

Mike didn’t answer the question, he wasn’t even sure the question fully registered in his brain. “I’d give up the world for you, you know,” he said instead. Will pressed his forehead against Mike’s. 

“I know. And I’d do the same.”


End file.
